Protoge
by Obsidian-Thread
Summary: Read, and review! This is a WIP, and will be updated as frequently as possible. Third person, and from a very unique perspective; I promise, if you read it, you'll find it interesting.
1. Awakening

It was sure of only two things; firstly, that it had been something called a child once, and second, that there had once been something other than the unbearable gloom in which it now dwelled. No, it was a he, because it couldn't imagine having been female. All else about his existance before the blackness was null. There were others with him, but they were wary of him, and hadn't been here nearly as long as he. He was twisted, they said; in hushed tones, and distorted murmers. He had forgotten long ago the proper way one was to converse with others, so instead of reaching out, and regaining some semblance of humanity, he stayed; cloaked in shadows, growing more strange, and inhuman as time slid by. He lurked in the deepest corner of the gloom, waiting, watching. All was the same, until without warning, an odd blue-headed creature had come, yelping, chattering, and moving about, disturbing the near tangible darkness that had settled over his inprisonment for so long. In due time, the blue-headed thing had left, and so for the first time in ages, he was truly alone. He began to despair that he would never see another again, until finally, only a short time after the others had left, a ruined horrible creature came; massive and hunched, it's head nearly brushed the ceiling, long, two long, gaunt metal arms extended at it's shoulders, one skelatal hand skittered spider-like at it's wrist, but the other had been rent away by some unspeakable force. Undera tangled cowl of ebony hair sat a parody of a face, where once two eyes must have been, there were only sloppily sewn buttons, gleeming in the sickly grey light. Deep, tarry cracks lined it's visage and a small, oddly demere nose sat the only feature intacted the only feature intacted on it's face. A red-lined slit of a mouth sat frozen in a painful grimace, the mouth opened, as though it meant to speak, but only a small, dry noise came forth, so instead, it simply beckoned, and after a time, he followed. Down long, twisted corridors she swept, for he had detirmined her to be a she in the harsh, colorless light that seemed to peer shrewdly at him from some great height. At length they arrived in a room not so colorless as it's predessesors. In it sat a great, dusty wheel, a table with a mess of tools, and supplies, and half finished dolls. He wasn't sure how he recalled the names of these things; t'was as though they had come from some long-shut crate at the back of his mind, spilling forth without so much as a warning. The creature seemed to brighten slightly as it entered the room, and it skuttled immediatly to the table, rummaging for a moment, before finally emmerging with a long, thin needle. This time when she opened her mouth to speak, words spilled out; at first, hoarse, and rough, but after a moment, her words became deceptively smoove and sweet.

"Sit down, sweety." Her thin, cruel looking mouth was at odds with the high, melodious voice that eminated from it. He had forgotten what it was to sit, and so it took him a moment in which to remember. Once he was seated upon the table, she began to work. for reasons unknown, he felt strangely commatose as she sewed, and welded, and refined. Soon, however a body began to form around him, and as it coalesced his thoughts seemed to fade; growing murky and indestinct, until, finally he lost conciousness all together.


	2. Instruction

Slowly, in tiny incramints not uncommon to the movement found on the minute hand of a clock, Obsidian regained conciousness. He couldn't remember why he thought now of himself by the name of Obsidian, but he did. "You're awake." He sat bolt upright, and was surprised to feel for the first time in three hundred years- substance! He flexed his hands, and a metallic ringing filled the air. Startled, his button eyes flickered rapidly. Needles. His hands where needles. Sitting bolt upright alerted him to the fact that he had four legs instead of two. just like mother, he thought to himself. Only, where her needles had been old, and rather dingy, his where new and shiny. Where her button eyes had been sewn on in a ragged, and sloppy fashion, his gleamed like metal against his porcelain skin. Obsidian suddenly noticed he heard humming, coming from outside of the room he was sitting in. Sliding off the table, Obsidian landed neatly on his feet... ...and promptly fell on his face. Mother chuckled, and helped him to his feet.  
>"I was starting to get worried sweety," her high voice crooned. What he had at first thought to be a table, was infact, a raised platform resembling a bed. Obsidian palstered a tentative smile across his face. As his eyes adjusted to the light, more of the room came into focus.<br>"M-m-my hands!" "Shhhh!" "They may take a little while to get used to, but I'm sure you'll find them better than your old hands."  
>"A-a-a mirror!" "I need a mirror!"<br>"Certainly," She smiled," As he looked at her face, he noticed that many of the deep tarry cracks that had previously marred it's surface were gone, in place there sat pristine white skin. In addition, her buttons where sewn in much tighter and polished to an ebony sheen. She smiled, her pearly teeth flashing, and then she was gone, striding up the stairs. There was the sound of rummaging, then a click, and then she sauntered down the stairs, an antique mirror clutched firmly in her polished metal hands. Grinning ear to ear, she handed him the mirror.  
>"So," And afer a moment. "Isn't it beautiful dear?" It took Obsidian a moment to struggle out of his stupor, and then a moment more to realize Mother was reffering to his reflection. And in a way, he was beautiful: Polished back buttons sat framed by his delicate slanted brows, under which high cheekbones overhung full, cherube lips. Despite his newfound goodlooks, his face had a gaunt, almost delicate look to it. As he turned slightly he watched his button eyes flash in the light, much like Mothers. He smiled, not wanting to offend Mother.<br>"Ye-yes, I suppose so." Mother beamed, and for a moment, she almost looked human. She showed him through her realm, showed him how to make Others like she could, and then she taught him that he needed energy to make these things. "But... can't I just eat food for more energy?" he had asked his buttons flickering in confusion. Mother had chuckled.  
>"No sweety, not that kind of energy; this kind of energy is special, you get it from human childeren."<br>"Childeren? How?" She paused for a moment as though debating something; her pale face scrunched slightly. "Well... Just being around them will gradually supply you with a stream of energy, but childeren are fickle creatures, and it's best to convince them to stay with you, and then completely drai them." "But... wouldn't that kill them?" pause "Yes dear, but we have to feed, now don't we?" The smile she falshed him showed teeth.  
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